


Move Your Body

by naturallymorbid



Series: Art in Boston [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Armitage Hux Has Issues, Bars, Dancing, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, armitage hux in a suit, bellydancer, hidden identity, sia song title
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturallymorbid/pseuds/naturallymorbid
Summary: By day, you're a boring corporate secretary.  By night, a beautiful bellydancer.  Your boss has no idea you exist, until one night.  Of all the nights, Armitage Hux had to walk into the same bar.  He's infatuated with your alter ego and you consider just having fun with him.  However, things begin to change rapidly at work and the two of you are working together closer than ever.  Eventually, he's going to find out the truth...
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Reader, Armitage Hux/Original Female Character(s), Armitage Hux/Reader
Series: Art in Boston [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624804
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

Move Your Body

1

_Poetry in your body_ _  
You got it in every way  
And can't you see it's you I'm watching?_

\- Sia

Theodora took a deep breath, not raising her eyes to the audience. That was part of her exotic charm. The mysterious, beautiful woman with the alluring movements of her hips. The slightest movement causes the hip scarf full of coins to jingle. Inside, your heart beats in time with the first strains of music.

No one had to know that Theodora was pretty plain during the week. That Theodora wasn’t even your real name. She was your belly dancer alter ego on the weekends.

It was her with dark hair piled up loosely, eyes framed by kohl, skin shimmering with body powder where it was covered in coins, chiffon, and sequins.

You only throw your hair up in a loose bun and go #nofilter most of the week. Your dull nine to five in the city never suspects that underneath your clothes you’re a goddess. That you own a belly dance studio on the side, that you one day hope to quit and just dance full time.

You’ve been working on this routine for weeks at the studio, every Friday night after work, all alone in front of the mirror, long after all the other students had gone.

The intro music reaches a crescendo and you move. Your hips are alive, arms slender and gorgeous as you spin around the room. People are clapping in time with your music, urging you on.

For tonight’s showcase, the bar tables have been cleared to the side so that you can move to your heart’s content.

Theodora is a hit. You’re flirty and fabulous, shimmying and snaking around the room – you even improvise. You haven’t done that in years.

The greatest part of the night is the fact that no one knows you here.

Or so you thought.

Sitting at the bar, nursing a drink is your boss, Armitage Hux.

There is no mistaking his bright, red-gold hair always expertly slicked down or the harsh set of his regal jaw and high, sculpted cheekbones.

Your breath catches in your throat and you stop mid-shimmy.

Panic drips down your back for a moment before you realize that he doesn’t know you. In the office or out.

You’re just some nameless secretary. You don’t even share the same workspace.

Smiling broad, you continue your routine.

Why not have a little fun tonight with him? After all, he doesn’t know Theodora.

His eyes are fully trained on you now as you move closer to his seat. A proud eyebrow raises as you shimmy your chest playfully. You tease the veil from around your hips, wrapping it around him as you roll your stomach.

Hux’s expression is priceless. His jaw drops, bright green eyes wide, full lips shaped in an “o.” His drink is suddenly lonely on the bar.

As you move away from him to end your routine, his expression doesn’t change. Theodora has broken your boss.  
  
The night is a success.

You finish and bow out so that another dancer can begin.

In the back, you add a light, chiffon robe to cover your costume and head back out to the bar to get a bottle of water.

One of the other girls from the studio has taken over allowing you to slip through the crowd and to the bar. You don’t see Hux anywhere as you slide onto one of the cracked pleather stools.

The bartender passes you a cool bottle of water and you turn to watch one of your students. You feel your heart swell with pride as she draws in the crowd with moves you’ve taught her.

You’re so distracted that you almost don’t feel the tap on your shoulder.

You turn, meeting familiar green eyes.

“Excuse me,” Hux starts.

“Yes?” you squeak, hoping to disguise your voice. He probably wouldn’t recognize you.

He seems to be searching for something to say, his mouth slack.

“That was…” He’s searching, silently tasting out words. “Interesting.” 

“Oh?” Not what you were expecting. “Thank you?”

“I meant to say…well…” His face goes through a range of emotions, most of which you think have to do with him verbalizing his thoughts, and very little to do with you. “That was astounding.”

“Thank you.” There’s an awkward pause.

“Do you do this often?”

“Er, yes.” He’s searching your face for something.

In your time working at the company, you had realized that Armitage was not his father. Brendol Hux had not been a good leader. He had been arrogant and unwilling to change. When he had died several months back, you had not been sad. Armitage had not seemed to grieve either. 

To be fair, you didn’t know much about Armitage’s character. From a distance, he seemed to have the same cold, arrogant bearing.

It was a shame that he was so cold. He was very handsome, with chiseled facial features, ginger hair, and piercing eyes. His lips were full, pouty. You wished he would smile. You bet he looked amazing smiling.

He never so much as glanced anyone’s way. There were no office rumors about his love life. You figured because he personally choked them out.

Armitage had taken over and there had been changes. Lots of staff changes. For a time, you had worried about your job. Apparently, he still had need of a lower level secretary. 

“Do you do private events?” Hux asks. His merciless stare from the office is gone, replaced by one of wonder, his jaw slack. 

You hesitate. Your card has your real name on it. The name that was in the personnel files at the office. 

“Sometimes. You have a pen?” 

He pulls one out of the breast pocket of his immaculate black suit.

You take his hand, fighting surprise at how warm they are, how soft. You write your personal number on his palm. This number is not in the database. 

You feel a heady rush of teenage giddiness. You had the stone-cold Armitage Hux all but eating out of your hand. Well, Theodora’s hand. If only the gossip pool at the office could see you. 

“Thank you,” he says, seeming to regain his senses. “I shall be calling soon.” 

“Okay,” you shrug. 

You figure he would probably never call. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks.

He seems as surprised as anyone at his question.

Usually, you don’t drink and dance at these events. Glancing back out at the floor, your students seem fine.

It’s been a long time since you had some fun for yourself.

“Sure, okay.” You tell him a pretty mild drink.

He slides onto the stool next to you and orders your drink and another for himself.

Taking the upper hand, you say, “What brings you out tonight?”

“Some potential business allies recommended this place. I didn’t realize there would be a show.”

No wonder you had never seen him here before. Not that you’re a regular by any means.

“How fortuitous,” you comment, sipping your drink delicately. The alcohol gives you a pleasant warmth.

“Indeed.” His accent chips away at your initial impressions.

A quirk of a smirk, so fast you almost think you’ve imagined it. You knew those lips could do more than just frown.

A few more sips and both of you are chatting amiably about anything. This is not the Armitage Hux, ruthless leader, that runs the company.

This is just Armitage.

His hand, large and limber, covers your own as you laugh.

There’s his smile. Those full lips part, the corners of his eyes crinkle.

You’re toeing a dangerous line – this is the owner of the company you’ve been flirting with tonight.

Something aches behind your chest and moves to your navel. You want him.

It’s been a long time since desire flared up in you. Your last boyfriend had been a loser who didn’t understand or value you. It’s been over a year since you had sex with a real man, not just your toys.

Your thoughts are interrupted when his cell phone begins ringing.

“Sorry,” he says, sheepish.

You wave off the apology, sipping your drink.

His face changes as whoever is on the other line speak to him.

Tersely, he mumbles something and hangs up. The businessman is back. Cold, ruthless.

Good thing you have batteries for your vibrator back home.

“I’m very sorry,” he says. “Work, it seems, is never done.”

He searches your face again and seems to make up his mind. His face moves closer, long fingers come up to cup your face and tangle in the loose strands of hair.

When he presses those full lips to your own, you can feel his sincerity. After a second, you kiss him back, trying to match your own disappointment to his.

“I’ll call you,” he says again, gesturing to his hand where your number is written.

“Yeah,” is all you say, gulping down your disappointment.

You watch him walk out of the bar on the phone once again.

To hide your dissatisfaction, you turn back to watch your girls and resolve to play with yourself tonight. You might even let his name tumble from your lips. But that is all the fantasy you’re going to give him.

What were you expecting anyway?

He’s a high-powered businessman. He doesn’t even know you exist.

If you had fucked him, it would have been awkward Monday morning when he didn’t recognize you.

Having talked yourself up, you go ahead and enjoy the rest of the night, celebrating your girls. The bar offers you another Friday night soon to come and entertain again. Your studio needs the publicity to stay afloat.

When you make it home, you don’t strip Theodora off. Instead, you select your favorite vibrator and lay on the bed. You ruck your skirts up around your thighs, feeling the dampness of your core through your panties. Dancing always makes you feel sexy.

You tease your slick lips with the lowest setting on your vibrator, delicious shivers racing through you. You hum and turn up the toy up a notch, thinking about how warm Hux’s hands had been on your cheeks, how sensuous his lips had been.

Usually, you take your time and tease yourself into cumming several times. But tonight, you want hard and fast, the way you had imagined a tryst with Hux would have been.

You slide the toy between your lips, into your warm, willing cunt. Just for a few moments, you imagine how Armitage would force his fleshy cock into you, taking you quickly and wanton the first time. You slide the toy in and out of your slick channel, feeling your orgasm unfurl in your stomach.

As the toy hits just the right spot, you whisper his name over and over as your release washes over you. You lay on the bed, a sweaty panting mess, thinking this is as close as you are even going to get.

“Be satisfied,” you mumble as you get up, shaking, to clean yourself up and go to bed for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Move Your Body

Chapter 2

Your Saturday passes unremarkably as you work on a new routine.

Sunday, you are greeted to your phone chirping a new message. You roll over and pick it up, thinking it is one of your girls asking a question.

Instead, your stomach flutters when you see a number you don’t recognize with the message: _I apologize I had to cut our night short beautiful Theodora. How about we reconvene this week?_

You lay in bed for a long time smiling. So, he did message after all. Not for a private event like he had asked, but for something personal.

Not wanting to seem eager, because he is your boss after all, you decide to let the message rest for a while. Just before bed that night, you text back: _Sure._

Monday morning comes too early. You rush through your morning routine and hurry to work. Your sleep was interrupted by a certain golden-haired beauty.

As you hurry to your cubicle, you have a visitor waiting for you.

She’s tall, towering over most of the office staff, with a stern expression that leaves no room for conversation. You sigh.

Phasma. She is somewhat of a bodyguard for Hux.

Panic turns your stomach. Maybe Armitage has figured out this fast who you really are.

“Mister Hux requests your presence in the staff meeting room.” Her tone is clipped, biting off every word.

“Sure,” you nod, feeling ice growing in your stomach. Maybe this is the day he fires you.

She doesn’t tell you to follow her, but you do. It’s one of those unspoken orders. The elevator ride to the top is silent.

You study her in brief glances. She’s actually quite pretty in a statuesque way. Blond hair is cut into a short bob, falling around her ears. Blue eyes are outlined in the thinnest kohl. She wears a black dress, knee-length with a peplum waistline paired with low-slung black heels. You really have no idea what she actually does for Hux.

“After you,” she tells you once you’ve reached the penthouse. Your stomach feels as if it is going to fall out. But you hold your head high and walk into his office.

It’s cold, bright white, and minimalist. There is the most amazing view of Boston.

No wonder he doesn’t need much in the office.

Just off the office is an attached staff room. You see many of the department heads seated around a table.

The Hux that you are used to seeing is back in full force. There is no trace of the almost playful man from Friday. He stares as you enter the boardroom.

“Glad you could join us…”

He doesn’t know your name. You promptly remind him. Phasma has taken residence by the door with a tablet, scrolling away.

“Yes. Y/N. Do you know why I’ve called you up here?” he asks. His clipped, terse tone invites no response.

You simply shake your head.

“I’ve had to let my secretary go for various reasons. You’re promoted. Begin by taking notes,” he instructs you.

Your secret is safe for a while it seems. You would find a way to move your items later you guessed. He had a multi-million-dollar company to run and right now he needed you to take notes. 

You simply nod as Phasma provides you with another tablet and a stylus.

Good thing you took a shorthand class in college.

You sit in the opposite corner from Phasma, taking notes during the meeting, the words sounding like a second language. You understood some of them, but it was more important that you could just type them down.

It was boring, but paid the bills, at least until you could dance full time.

“You will have those notes to me by the end of the day?” Hux is asking you.

“Yeah, sure thing,” you tell him, nodding.

“Good, dismissed. Phasma will see to your needs,” Hux concludes. He turns his back to you and leaves the boardroom for his office.

“Come,” Phasma tells you.

You’re glad that you got to see another side of Hux on Friday night, but you didn’t know which one was the real one. Of course, you could understand being one way at work and another at home, so you couldn’t talk.

She shows you the former secretary’s desk, which has been cleaned of personal items.

“I’ll have your things moved up,” Phasma says, without looking at you as she makes some sort of adjustment on her tablet. “I’ll also get you a key for the elevator and the penthouse. Mr. Hux expects you here every morning at 8, to handle his calls, appointments, any other duties. At 5, you can leave if there is nothing else Mr. Hux requires.”

You just nod.

“Any questions?” she asks, finally looking at you.

“Nope. Same job, different place,” you say, then realize who you’re speaking to. “Er…”

To your surprise, she smiles. “Tell me about it. Looking forward to working with you.”

“You too.”

You sit down at the desk and start typing out your report. You manage to get it down just as your items start to arrive from downstairs.

“Set them anywhere,” you tell the guys hauling the boxes, as you both print your report and email a copy to Hux.

You busy yourself with organizing your items into the new space and fielding calls meant for Hux. You suppose that Hux is pleased because you don’t hear any complaints from him.

At some point, Phasma brings you lunch, so that you don’t have to leave – which is a perk you could get used to.

By 5, there is no word from Hux. You go to his door and knock.

“Yes?” he asks, sounding a little exasperated.

“Anything else you need before I go?” you ask sweetly, ignoring his attitude. You’re reconsidering that date now.

“No. Adequate work today,” he says, dismissing you once again. No trace of the almost lighthearted guy from Friday night now. You’re almost regretting having touched yourself and picturing him.

Instead, his face seems drawn and pale. You feel a little sorry for him. Well, almost.

You duck out and leave, heading off to eat and then teach your class.

On your way out, you encounter Phasma, back from some errand.

“You must have done well,” Phasma tells you, handing you a set of keys. She’s even smiling a little.

“Why do you say that?” you ask, adjusting your purse.

“He’s not keeping you late. He only keeps others late when they’ve made mistakes. Good job.”

“Thanks,” you tell her.

“Tomorrow, y/n,” she says as she heads back to her own office, right by Hux’s.

You do feel a little swell of pride. At least, you have done a good job today being thrown into a new place.

You eat a light dinner and head to class with your Monday girls. It’s the best hour of your whole day.

When you get home, you realize that you have a new text message not from one of your dance students.

_Hello beautiful Theodora, I’ve thought about you all day. Would tomorrow night work for dinner? Name a time and I’ll have a place._

Given your new position today, you hesitate in answering. You know he’s a businessman, but that guy Friday night was so different.

On the other hand, what could it hurt?

 _Sure,_ you text back, _how about 8:15 at the little Indian place on Forest Street?_

 _Great. I’m looking forward to it,_ he texts back within minutes.

Even though you’re not sure you feel the same yet, you reply, _Great, me too._

You had a class from seven until eight, but you would at least look like the Theodora from Friday, you hoped. You got ready for bed and tried not to worry about whether or not he would figure out he had seen you at work.


End file.
